Ghosts of the Past
by vinkunwildflowerqueen
Summary: It's harmless enough... Cuddy hires a new doctor and introduces them to Diagnostics. How will they effect Cameron? And how will Cameron affect House? Hameron. Probably a crap summary, but i didn't want to spoil too much
1. Chapter 1

**Ghosts of the Past**

**A House fan fiction by phoenixgirl23**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of House MD... yet. Give me time to win Lotto.**

**AUTHORS NOTE: I haven't uploaded any stories in awhile, I've just been collecting them on my computer. I found a whole stack of early, handwritten fan fics that I had written when I first started watching House; and decided it would be good to type them up and upload them. Of course, they have changed a bit since I originally wrote them, but if you don't like them, you can at least appreciate how much my writing has grown. Also, I've updated my profile, so please read and feel free to comment. As always, please no flames. If you like the story, or have constructive criticism to offer, great. If you don't like it, don't read it. Simple. **

**1**

"Any plans for this weekend?" Chase asked his co-workers as they sat in the conference room.

House, sitting in a chair by the door, raised an eyebrow. "It's only Wednesday."

"It's Thursday," Cameron corrected him, not looking up.

He shrugged dismissively. "My point is, your life is so bad you start planning your weekend before Friday?"

Foreman snorted. "Yeah. Don't you?"

"You can only make weekend plans in advanced if you have a life," Cameron said dryly and House looked at her in shock.

"Ouch," he said in mock pain, and she rolled her eyes.

"Jim and Sara invited me to dinner," she said, answering Chase's question, and referring to her sister, Sara who was now living in Princeton and in a relationship with Wilson for almost a year.

"But I'm not sure if I'll go."

"Couple overload?" Foreman said knowingly and she grimaced.

"Yeah. It was sweet... for the first two months. Now that they're living together... I tend to limit my exposure," she laughed lightly and Foreman and Chase grinned, as the three returned to their work.

"Are you guys busy?"

Shortly after, House looked up from his magazine to see Cuddy standing in the doorway. He glanced around the conference room, making a big show out of studying his employees' activities. Chase was doing the finishing paperwork on their most-recently diagnosed patient; Foreman was reading a medical journal; and Cameron was researching a journal article of her own.

"Define busy?" he asked her lightly, and she ignored him as his fellows gave the Dean of Medicine their full attention.

"What's up?" Chase asked her. "A new case?"

"No," she shook her head. "I've just hired a new intern for radiology. Dr. Goodman wants him to assist with any of your cases if you ever need him, so I've asked him to come up and meet you all. He'll be here in a few minutes."

House frowned. "So, you hired a guy and pawned him off to Goodman; who now is trying to pawn him off on us? Geez, the guy must be a complete loser!"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "He's not being pawned off! Goodman thinks working with you is a good learning experience. He went to med school late, so he's older than most interns. Goodman's just trying to catch him up."

"How late is late?" asked Foreman.

Cuddy shrugged. "He's probably about your age, Cameron. But he seems like a nice enough guy, he's very eager to learn."

Cameron nodded. "That's good. What's his name?"

"Brad Armstrong," Cuddy replied.

In his peripheral vision, House's gaze moved to Cameron in sudden interest as he watched all her colour abruptly drain from her face. Chase noticed this too.

"Cameron? Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

Cameron nodded faintly, seemingly a million miles away. "Yeah, I'm- I'm fine. I think I just need to eat something... excuse me."

She stood up and left the room, leaving Chase and Foreman to exchange bewildered stares.

"That was weird," Foreman said, his eyes anxious.

"Very weird," Chase agreed. "What was that all about?"

Cuddy looked around at House, as confused as the rest of them. "Do you know what happened?"

House shrugged. "Nope. But I know how to find out."

He stood up and limped over to the wall that separated his office from Wilson's, and began knocking repeatedly on the wall with his cane. A moment later, Wilson and Sara entered the conference room, both looking annoyed.

"You know, there's this newfangled invention called the telephone; and I'm pretty sure it works just as well as banging on the wall," Wilson said dryly.

"I'm saving electricity," House retorted. "Besides, it's your girlfriend I want to talk to."

He turned to a bewildered Sara. "Any idea why the name Brad Armstrong would cause your sister to have a panic attack?"

Sara's jaw dropped. "_Brad Armstrong?_"

"See, almost identical reaction," House observed. "I knew you dating Cameron's sister would be a good thing," he muttered to Wilson, who scoffed.

"That's not how I remember it."

He faced Sara, his interest too, now peaked. "Who's this guy, Sara?"

Sara was obviously flustered as she answered. "Uh, Brad was Allie's high school boyfriend," she explained.

"Oh. So he dumped her, she cried, he dated her best friend and lived happily ever after. Moving on," House said dismissively.

"No, it's not that simple," Sara interrupted, and her tone was such that they all sat down, even House, to listen to her story.

"Brad was the star of the football team, and he and Allison started going out at the beginning of their senior year. Brad's father had also been the star quarterback when he was at school, and he put a lot of pressure on Brad to be just as good as he was. When football season started, college scouts started coming to games, and everyone wants you to win every game, the pressure builds. And eventually..."

"Brad turned to drugs," Foreman finished for her.

Sara nodded. "Steroids," she confirmed. "And Brad loved being the star of the team. He loved being popular and the attention; Allie was cheerleading captain-"

"Typical," House muttered under his breath.

"-so it was one of those high profile relationships. Brad became convinced he was the best thing to happen to the school, and the town. He started telling Allie how _lucky _she was that she was with him, and became incredibly jealous and possessive... and then.... and then he started to hit her."

Cuddy gasped, and a shocked silence filled the room, following this statement.

"Brad put her in hospital twice. Once after he lost a game to their biggest rivals in front of his father and some college scouts that had come to see him. And the second time, when he found out she applied for colleges on the East Coast. He'd expected her to go wherever he went." Sara explained.

House rolled his eyes. "Only _your_ sister could be naive enough to go back to a guy that hit her. For how long? About a year?"

"Nine months," Sara replied tightly, her eyes angry. "And it wasn't like that. Ok, yeah, the first time he hit her, she wanted to believe that he loved her enough to not hurt her again. But after the first few months, she knew that if she didn't take him back, he'd hurt her even worse. It was actually safer to stay with him. After the second time he put her in hospital, that was when she left him, and he actually threatened to kill her and himself if she left."

"Is he still on drugs?" Chase asked her.

Sara shook her head. "I don't think so. He got busted the summer after graduation by his father, who was furious. I'm going to go find Allie," she said to Wilson, who nodded in agreement.

"Wow!" House exclaimed, the second she had left the room. "I knew she was damaged, but this was beyond my wildest dreams!"

"Congratulations, you've solved a puzzle," Foreman said sarcastically.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and they turned as one to see a tall man with a stocky build in the doorway.

"Dr. Cuddy," he greeted her, offering her his hand, which she reluctantly took.

"Dr. Armstrong," she nodded cordially. "I'd like you to meet Drs. House, Chase, Foreman and Wilson."

House watched carefully, as Armstrong swept them all over and his face fell slightly in disappointment before a polite smile was slipped on to his face as he shook their hands.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm very much looking forward to working with you, and I hope that in time we can all- Allie!" His voice broke off suddenly, his gaze fixed on the opposite doorway.

The team turned to see Cameron and Sara in the doorway. Cameron was still pale and clutching her sister's arm tightly, her eyes wide as though seeing a ghost.

"Allie, it's so good to see you again," he said eagerly, broaching the distance between them.

"Hey, Brad, how've you been?" Sara said in forced brightness, tearing his gaze away from her sister.

Armstrong stared at her, clearly noticing her for the first time, and his surprise at seeing her there, really threw him.

"Sara? You're here too. I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I'm not, actually, I'm a freelance journalist," Sara replied smugly. "But my sister is, and my boyfriend is, so I hang out here a lot."

"Oh, right. Well... good," Armstrong murmured, keeping his gaze on Cameron, who was beginning to shake slightly.

Cuddy saw this and intervened. "Uh, Dr. Armstrong, why don't I show you around, there's still some things I need to go through."

"Sure boss," Armstrong reluctantly turned and nodded politely to the others, before heading out to the hall.

"Just give me a sec," they heard Cuddy tell him, and she approached Cameron.

"Cameron, I'm so sorry. If I'd known-"

"It's fine," Cameron cut her off. "You couldn't have known, it'll be fine," she promised. Cuddy didn't look convinced but nodded and left the office.

Once Cuddy and Armstrong were out of her sight, Cameron's resolve gave out, and she sank shakily into the closest chair, and Chase went and got her a glass of water.

"Thanks, Chase," she said gratefully, taking a sip. Then she looked up at Sara, and frowned, her voice stronger.

"Do you know what really confuses me? Why would Brad of all people become a doctor? Remember Freddy?"

Sara snorted with laughter at the memory, and the sisters were met by confused frowns.

"Freddy?" Foreman asked.

Cameron explained. "Our high school had a pond in the middle of the quadrangle, where they would grow frogs for the junior biology classes to dissect each year. And some of them had names. When my class had to dissect them, Brad was given Freddy. Brad's lab partner made one cut, and Brad was out cold. He can't deal with blood, he never could... so why become a doctor?"

"And a radiologist at that," House added, and Wilson and Cameron rolled their eyes.

"Are you going to be able to work with him?" Foreman asked her and she smiled.

"I'm not working with him. He just happens to be working in the same hospital as I am. Unless we ever need help from radiology on a case, I'll probably never see him. It happened over ten years ago, and we're both adults. I just wasn't expecting to see him again. It'll be fine," she assured them.

That night found Cameron alone in the office, as usual. Chase and Foreman had left half an hour prior, House almost an hour before them; and she had been so caught up in her research that she had lost track of time. Realising it was after six, she began to gather her things, making a mental list of everything she needed to get when she stopped at the supermarket on her way home.

"Hey Alz."

Cameron jumped and looked up to see Armstrong in the doorway, speaking cheerfully to her as though they were best friends.

"What do you want?" she asked sighing tiredly.

"Just thought it would be nice to talk. Maybe we could go get a drink or something?" he suggested.

Cameron snorted. "Right. How about when hell freezes over?" she retorted and Brad sighed.

"Come on, Al. I just want to catch up," he said, smiling charmingly but Cameron wasn't convinced.

"Tough. I'm going home," she said and shrugged into her jacket.

"I heard about your husband," he said suddenly and Cameron paused.

"How the hell do you know about him?" she demanded.

"My mom told me. She works with your mom, remember? I'm sorry," he told her, and he almost sounded sincere.

"Thanks," Cameron mumbled, and he came a little closer.

"Why did you become a doctor?" she demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He grinned. "Why not?"

"Freddy the frog."

Armstrong at least had the decency to blush. "Ok, touché. The truth is... I wanted to see you again. I figured if I was in the business, I'd have a better chance."

"And what could you possibly want to meet me again for?"

Armstrong came even closer, and he smiled. "I still love you. And I know you love me. I thought we ended hastily, and I thought we should give us another chance."

Cameron stared at him in amazement. "Are you kidding me? You _abused_ me! You _hit_ me! And you think I still love you? That I ever loved you? Any chance I ever had of loving you died the second you first hit me. How could you ever think I would want to be with you?"

Armstrong shrugged. "Well, I'm single... you're single. And you're not getting any younger. I can't imagine many guys fancy dating a woman who was widowed at twenty-one."

Cameron stared at him in shock. "You're pathetic. It's not as if I wear a neon sign displaying that fact, and if a guy really loved me, the fact I have a dead husband shouldn't bother them. Now, stay the hell away from me, and don't talk to me about anything non-medically related."

She picked up her bag and headed past him to the corridor. Just before she reached the door, Armstrong furiously grabbed her by the wrist and twisted her around to face him. Cameron let out an involuntary cry of pain as her wrist was bent backwards, but Armstrong ignored her.

"You remember this part, right Allie? I don't want to hurt you, but I know you love me. And the sooner you realise that, the easier it'll be for everyone. I've always gotten what I want, and I want you. So, I'd be very careful of what you're telling people about us."

Cameron whitened as he threatened her, then wrenched her arm out of his grasp and strode from the room, not looking back.

**A/N: I know I've done a few stories where Cameron has a sister who hooks up with Wilson, and trust me, there's more coming; but I usually do it for a reason. For example, in this story, I need her to know Cameron's history with Armstrong. **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of House MD... yet. Give me time to win Lotto**

**2**

By the next morning, Cameron's wrist had swollen twice to its normal size and was several shades of black and blue. Luckily, a new case distracted her from the throbbing pain for most of the morning.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked her. They were in the unconscious patient's room changing the IV on House's orders. Startled by the question, Cameron looked up from the chart she was modifying.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered quickly.

Chase seemed sceptical. "Are you sure? You don't seem too mobile with your left arm that's all," he observed.

"It's nothing. I slept on it weird," she replied, not meeting his eyes.

She replaced the chart, and as if to prove Chase wrong, purposefully used to her injured hand to adjust the monitor. Chase, however, still noticed the wince that flashed across her face and got a glimpse of her bruise as the sleeve of her lab coat rose up.

"Woah!" he interjected, coming around the bed to stop her. "What the hell happened?"

Cameron winced as he lifted her hand to inspect it. "Nothing."

"Yeah right. Cameron, what happened?" he pressed.

Cameron hesitated, but gave in to Chase's persistent stare. "Brad came by the office last night. He wanted to get back together, I said no way in hell, and that pissed him off."

Chase was stricken with alarm. "And you were just going to let it go? Jesus, Cameron. Come on."

"Where are we going?" Cameron asked, worriedly.

"Back to the office."

He led her back to the office and went to the first aid kit under the sink.

"Take your coat off," he instructed but Cameron was reluctant.

"It can wait," she protested.

"No, it can't. Take it off."

House raised an eyebrow. "You two can't do it in a closet like normal people?"

They both glared at him.

"Armstrong paid Cameron a visit last night with a reunion proposition. And his idea of romantic persuasion sucks. Cameron, take off the coat," he ordered and Cameron wearily gave in as House and Foreman reacted to this news.

"Honestly, you guys, it's fine," Cameron said calmly. "I had ice on it last night, and _ow!_" she broke off to glare at Chase as he rotated her wrist to check for breaks.

"Chase, don't you think I would've noticed if it was broken?" she said pointedly, but Chase ignored her.

He deemed it a sprain and bandaged it tightly. When Sara came to the hospital to meet Wilson for lunch and stopped by to visit her sister, learning of Armstrong's visit, she was furious.

"I don't believe him! He's back in your life for twenty-four hours, and you've already got a sprained wrist! I should kick his ass!"

Cameron snorted. "And say what Sara? If he doesn't leave me alone, he'll have you to deal with? Because you're so scary."

Sara protested. "Hey, I've got a black belt in karate!"

House finally made a comment for the first time since hearing the news. "Kiddies, go play for an hour, and then we'll meet back here. Sara, bring Wilson. Foreman, tell Cuddy it's an emergency meeting."

"House, what are you doing?" Cameron asked nervously.

"Relax. I got it," he assured her, then limped out of the room.

An hour later when they all reassembled in the conference room, it was to find House had drawn all the blinds, and the blank whiteboard was in the centre of the room.

"Ok, it looks like the setting of a really cheesy FBI movie," Wilson commented.

"With a low-budget," Cameron added sceptically.

"Maybe it is. There's a hidden camera in my PSP," House deadpanned.

"People, I want you to meet someone. This-" he flipped over the whiteboard to reveal writing on the other side. "-Is Operation Monkey Poop."

The group stared at the whiteboard in distaste.

"Operation Monkey Poop?" Wilson repeated in disbelief.

House shrugged. "Well, we need something more discreet than 'Operation-Save-Cameron-from-her-jack-ass-ex-boyfriend.' Monkey Poop seemed appropriate."

"So what is Operation... what is it?" Cuddy asked, unable to bring herself to say the name.

"It's quite simple really. Cameron is never to be left alone. Cameron, from now on, you come in at nine and leave at three, like a normal person."

"Normal people work nine to five," Cameron said dryly.

"Yes, but we're not waiting around till five every day until you go home," House rolled his eyes. "Any questions?"

"I can still go to the bathroom by myself right?" she asked, not sure whether to laugh or cry as these turn of events.

House considered this. "I suppose so. He won't be stupid enough to follow you in there."

"And if _anything_ happens, you have to tell someone!" Cuddy scolded her.

Cameron nodded sheepishly. "I will, I promise." Then she checked her watch. "I've got clinic duty. I can still work in the clinic?" she asked House, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. "Yeah. Damn, why can't I get a stalker to get me out of clinic duty?"

Foreman snorted. "You've been shot. That's not good enough?"

"I'm still doing clinic duty, aren't I?" House retorted and everyone rolled their eyes.

Cameron left the room and silence fell.

"We're still going to talk to Armstrong, right?" Foreman asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Wilson replied, leading the way to the door.

Two days later, Cameron was leaving for the day and entering the stairwell when she heard the door open behind her.

"Hey, Alz. Got a sec?"

**A/N: oooh, suspense.... Operation Monkey Poop.... lol**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of House MD... yet. Give me time to win Lotto**

**3**

Wilson, and Sara were waiting to meet Cameron in the lobby when Cuddy approached them.

"Hey, how's Cameron?"

"She's fine," Sara answered. "Brad hasn't spoken to her since we confronted him. I don't think he's stupid enough to risk his job."

Wilson checked his watch impatiently. "Where is she?"

"Relax, House is probably wrapped up in his case," Cuddy said calmly.

Sara nodded to the stairs as she saw her sister enter. "Here she is."

Her smile faded however, when she saw Armstrong right behind her. She made an odd noise in her throat, and went to move to her sister's side, but Wilson held her back.

"Sara, she's a big girl. She can handle Armstrong, just wait."

As they watched from across the room, Armstrong turned Cameron around to face him, and said something to her that made her slap him across the face. Armstrong's face registered shock, and then his eyes darkened. Before they could blink, Armstrong had hit Cameron around the head with such force it caused her to fall and hit her head on the corner of the nurse's station.

Sara and Cuddy let out a shocked cry, and rushed to Cameron's side, as Wilson called for security and tackled Armstrong before he could move away. Nurses and patients alike were gaping at the scene in horror, and Armstrong seemed only then to notice the many witnesses.

"Oh my god, Allie are you okay?" Sara demanded anxiously, helping her sister sit up slowly.

Cameron's face was white as she gingerly felt her head. "Ow... I'm going to have one hell of headache." She lifted her hand away from her crown and saw crimson blood.

"Oh."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Cuddy said gently, and she and Sara helped her to her feet.

Cameron stood, swayed on the spot, and promptly collapsed in a dead faint. At Sara's cry, Wilson hurried over, leaving Armstrong with security, and scooped Cameron into his arms.

"Let's take her back up to Diagnostics. Less people watching," Cuddy said briskly, and Wilson nodded.

When Sara and Cuddy entered the office, House merely glanced at them before continuing with his differential. When Wilson followed them however, an unconscious Cameron in his arms, he stopped what he was doing immediately.

"What the hell happened?" he asked urgently, as Wilson laid her on the chair in House's office, and he, Chase and Foreman hurried over.

"Brad," Sara replied simply, rushing for the first aid kit.

"Is she okay?" Foreman questioned.

"She's got a cut on the back of her head, but it doesn't need stitches. She should be fine," Wilson answered, placing the cold compress Cuddy handed him on her head.

Cuddy herself looked horribly guilty. "I'm going to go deal with Armstrong," she said quietly.

"Kick his ass," Chase called after her.

"I will," she promised.

After a moment, Cameron suddenly winced and opened her eyes. "Ow."

"How do you feel?" Foreman asked gently.

She grimaced. "My head hurts."

"No surprise," retorted Sara.

Cameron closed her eyes briefly and then sighed at her colleagues. "I told you guys not to talk to Brad."

Wilson looked panic-stricken. "That's why he hit you?"

"It just makes things worse if he feels threatened. Where is he?"

"Hopefully in the midst of being decapitated," House responded, and Cameron chuckled weakly.

Cuddy took great pleasure in firing Armstrong, and Sara and Wilson thought that would be the end of it. However, Armstrong blamed his termination on Cameron, and whilst he didn't touch her again, he took to sending her daily notes and calling her repeatedly at work and home; sometimes abusing her, other times pleading with her to reunite with him.

"It's so creepy," Sara shivered, reading his latest note.

Cameron shrugged. "This isn't scary. Just annoying. It's been a month already. I just want my life back."

A few nights later, Cameron was awoken by a fierce banging on the door. She squinted blearily at her alarm clock, and moaned as she saw it was three-thirty in the morning. When the knocking didn't cease and she realised the noise might awaken her neighbours, she reluctantly got out of bed, and opened her front door, keeping the chain on.

"Brad, what are you doing here?" she demanded. It was obvious from the start that he was drunk. His words slurred, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"You got me fired," he yelled drunkenly.

"No, you got yourself fired, because you hit me. Just leave me alone, before I call the cops!" Cameron hissed angrily.

She made to shut the door, but Brad stuck his foot in the way. "You wouldn't call the cops, Allie. You love me, I know you do. We're meant to be together," he slurred.

"No, you're meant to be in jail. I mean, it Brad. Leave, or I'll call the cops!" she whispered angrily, kicking his foot out of the way.

"You're mine, Allie. You have to be mine. Why won't you be with me?" Armstrong demanded, and his face grew darker.

"It's House, isn't it?"

Cameron frowned tiredly. "What?"

"You're in love with House, aren't you? That's why you won't be with me? I've heard the nurses talk about him. He doesn't deserve you, Allie! You belong with me. Why is it so hard for you to admit that you love me?"

"Because I don't," she glared and Armstrong smirked.

"Right. Playing hard to get, just like in high school. Just admit it."

Cameron gritted her teeth. "No."

"Admit it!" he yelled, his voice rising in anger.

Giving up, Cameron left the door and turned around, moving to her phone to call 911. When Armstrong saw what she was doing, he slammed his weight against the door until the chain gave way. In one movement, he had stepped across the room, and pinned Cameron to the wall by her throat.

"You cost me my job, you bitch!" he snarled, as Cameron gasped for air.

"And you're going to throw away a chance with me, for some crippled ass?" he yelled, banging her head against the wall.

Cameron could feel her head spinning due to loss of oxygen, but managed to choke out. "You are the last person... on earth... I would ever love."

Armstrong's fist slammed into her stomach, and then her head, and all went black.

Twenty minutes later, Sara and Wilson were awoken by the ringing of the phone. Sara answered it sleepily, cursing at the caller.

"Hello? Yes, this is she. Yes... oh my god."

She sat up suddenly, wide awake and Wilson frowned in worry.

"What happened? Is she okay? Yeah, yeah ok, thank you. Bye."

"Sara, what's wrong?" Wilson asked as Sara jumped out of bed and began to dress hastily. She turned to him with tears in her eyes.

"That was the police. Brad showed up at Allie's apartment. He- he..." she broke down in tears, and Wilson leapt up to embrace her.

"Hey, hey. Talk to me, what did he do?" he asked worriedly.

Sara shuddered as she recalled what the officer had told her. "He beat her. He almost strangled her, and then he trashed the place. One of her neighbours heard the noise and called the cops."

Wilson was horrified. "Is she okay?"

"The police said she was unconscious still when the ambulance came and they took her to PPTH. I've got to go," she said weakly and Wilson nodded.

"Ok, I'm coming with you."

He threw on his jeans that were lying on the floor, then turned and picked up the phone.

"Jim, who are you calling?"

"House," Wilson said simply. "You know he'll want to know."

When Cameron opened her eyes later that morning, sunshine was pouring into the room, and found Sara, Wilson, and House sitting around her bed.

"Hey," she said hoarsely.

Sara glanced at her sister in relief. "Oh thank god. How do you feel, Allie?"

She grimaced. "Like shit. What happened?"

Her sister exchanged a look with Wilson. "Hon, do you remember Brad coming over last night?"

Cameron frowned, closing her eyes in thought and then the memory came back to her. "Yeah, I remember. Where- where is he?"

Wilson took her hand gently. "No one knows. The police are looking for him, though."

Cameron nodded slightly, winced as her head swam and then turned to Sara. "You didn't call Mom and Dad, did you?"

Sara hesitated. "No," she lied badly.

"Sara!"

"Well, you were unconscious!" Sara defended herself. "But I told them not to come, and I'd keep them updated."

"When can I go home?" Cameron asked them, and Sara blanched.

"What?"

Sara reluctantly answered her sister's query. "Allie, after you passed out... Brad trashed the place."

Cameron was horrified, and she winced, imagining the mess. "Dammit. How bad?"

"I haven't seen," Sara replied honestly. "The police told me. I was thinking I'd go back and clean it up later before you go home."

"Don't," Cameron told her. "I want to do it myself."

House had been rather quiet until now, but now he spoke. "Why not take advantage of the free maid service?"

Cameron gazed at him, her brow crinkling in confusion. "What are you doing here? It's the weekend, isn't it?"

House rolled his eyes. "Apparently, Wilson thought I should be here. I don't know why, because last time I checked I was your boss, not your baby-sitter, but whatever."

Cameron smiled weakly. "That means he only told you enough to interest you, and you had to come to get the goss," she said lightly and House shrugged in defeat.

"Yeah. It's really not that interesting actually. No offence."

Cameron snorted, then winced at the pain in her raw throat. "I'm with you. So when can I go home?"

"You're not going home," House said matter-of-factly and Cameron sighed.

"I don't want to be in here. It's just bruises, isn't it?"

"Yes, and a few cracked ribs," Wilson agreed. "But you're not going home."

Cameron was getting irritated and sore. "Why not? The place is probably a mess, I'm going nuts just thinking about it."

"There's a more important issue at hand," House declared and Cameron frowned.

"What's more important than my home being destroyed?" she demanded.

"Your safety," House replied pointedly. "Your building has the crappiest security system I've ever seen. You obviously can't live there anymore."

"And where am I supposed to live?" she asked.

"With us," Wilson answered, and Cameron looked at her sister and her friend carefully.

"I don't want to intrude," she said quickly, but Sara intervened.

"We've already talked about this Allie. At least until we know for sure Brad's gone, we need to know you're safe."

Cameron protested, but gave in. The next morning, apart from a sore throat and many bruises, she felt back to normal and discharged herself from hospital. She caught a cab back to her apartment, and her landlord let her in with the spare key, offering her his sympathies. Cameron accepted them, and hesitantly stepped inside. The mess was worse than she had imagined, and she wished she had taken Sara up on her offer. Armstrong had smashed furniture, upturned the contents of drawers, and emptied shelves on to the floor.

Sighing heavily, Cameron got out a garbage bag and began to clean up; a task made slightly difficult by the aching in her ribs. As she picked up the pieces of what had once been a vase, a knock on the door made her jump.

"Want some help?"

Sara, Wilson, Cuddy, Foreman, Chase, and House, who was obviously there against his will, stood in the hall and Cameron let them in gratefully.

"We'll talk about you discharging yourself from hospital later," Sara told her sternly as she passed, and Cameron rolled her eyes, as the group immediately began to clean.

Cameron's breath caught in her throat as she stood up a chair, and found her wedding picture underneath. Armstrong had smashed the frame open, and ripped the picture into pieces.

"Allie?" Sara said quietly, a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Mom and Dad have copies at home."

Cameron managed to nod. "I know."

She shakily knelt down and began to pick up the pieces.

"Thank god for insurance, right?" she said dryly to Cuddy, who got down to help her pick up the glass.

"Hey, Cameron?" Foreman called from the kitchenette.

Cameron walked over and abruptly burst into tears, as she saw every piece of her wedding china smashed on the floor. The dam she had been building all morning suddenly burst, and she broke down in Sara's arms as her sister hurried over to comfort her.

It took the group a week to clean the apartment, pack the salvageable things and move them into Wilson and Sara's spare room. Cameron was most upset by the loss of her wedding china and her dress, which Armstrong had shredded. It was fortunate he had missed the photo album and a few keepsakes Cameron had in her closet, and her parents sent her a new picture to replace the one that had been destroyed, with a new frame. House didn't help, by telling Cameron it was lucky Armstrong had not destroyed her DVDs, books and cds, which had reduced her to tears again.

The police found Armstrong two days after the attack and had charged him, and set a restraining order against him for Cameron, although he had bailed himself out. Then he seemed to vanish, to Cameron's immense relief.

**A/N: I know it doesn't really make sense after Cameron hits her head to take her back up to Diagnostics when they're already in the lobby, where there is Cuddy's office and exam rooms, but I wanted for House to react... planting the seeds of Hameron. Trust House to just worry about her DVD collection.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of House MD... yet. Give me time to win Lotto.**

**4**

"It's supposed to rain for the next two weeks," Chase informed them as the team left together one night, observing the grey clouds rolling in.

"Great," House sighed.

They alighted together in the lobby, and Cameron stepped out first.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," she smiled and headed outside.

It had been two weeks since Armstrong had vandalised her apartment, and most of her bruises had faded, and she was eager for life to return to normal.

House, Chase and Foreman were about to follow her, when Cuddy called out to them from across the lobby.

"Boys!"

They turned, House reluctantly to face her.

"Yes, Mom?" he asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I just wanted to ask you how you think Cameron's doing?" she asked them, and it was House's turn to roll his eyes.

"Will you stop feeling so goddamn guilty? You didn't the guy was a nutcase!"

"She seems okay," Chase told her, and Foreman nodded in agreement.

"She's eating, sleeping, she's fine."

Cuddy nodded in relief. "Ok, if you're sure. Have a good night, you guys."

"Night," Foreman smiled at her, and the three boys headed outside.

As they headed towards the parking lot, the still night was broken by a muffled scream and the slam of a car door.

"Cameron!" Chase gasped, and he and Foreman broke into a run, House limping as fast as he could behind them.

When he had caught up, he could still see a glimpse of a dark green sedan as it sped off into the night, and Chase and Foreman were standing there, breathless and defeated as Foreman held Cameron's laptop bag dejectedly.

The police immediately launched a search for Cameron and Armstrong, and Wilson, Sara, House, Cuddy, Chase and Foreman all gave statements on the events that had occurred since Armstrong's employment. Sara also, with difficulty spoke of her sister's relationship with Armstrong in high school, and the regret was evident in her face as she admitted her sister had never laid charges against Armstrong.

"Why didn't your sister report him?" asked Detective Tritter, who was taking their statements.

Sara paused in thought. "The first time, she wanted to believe that he would never hurt her again. And then after that, Brad threatened to kill her if she left or told anyone. You don't understand, Detective. Our mother's were friends, and our high school was small... Brad was the hero of the football team, the most popular guy in school, for Allison to say that he was abusing her... if anyone believed her, it would have been so painful. She got out as fast as she could, and never looked back. It was the best thing she could do."

Detective Tritter nodded and made several notes. "Ms. Cameron, is there anywhere you think if Armstrong has taken your sister, that he'd take her?"

Sara looked bewildered and shook her head. "As far as I know, he's only been in New Jersey for about two months. I've been in New Jersey for a year, and I still don't know any area outside of Mercer County."

She hesitated, and her voice wavered. "Detective, what are the chances of finding her?"

Detective Tritter paused and then said briskly, "We'll keep you posted."

Sara was distraught over her sister's welfare, as were the girls' parents, who Sara had persuaded not to come to New Jersey, until there was news. Meanwhile Chase's prediction came true and it began to rain steadily upon Princeton.

Three days after Cameron's disappearance, Sara burst into the Diagnostic's office.

"The police found Brad!" she cried, and immediately gained the room's attention.

"What about Allie?" Wilson asked his girlfriend, who shook her head sadly.

"Nothing. He's admitted to taking her, but he won't say where. Detective Tritter said they think he's hoping the DA will give him a deal before he says anything."

"Did he say if she's hurt or anything?" Foreman asked worriedly.

Sara shook her head again. "No, he hasn't said anything. You don't think he's hurt her, do you?" she asked softly and Wilson embraced her.

"She'll be fine, Sara. They'll find her... don't worry."

The night after Armstrong's arrest, House lay in bed for most of the night; listening to the rain pound on the roof. He found his thoughts were continuingly drifting towards Cameron, much to his puzzlement. Since Armstrong had entered their lives, House had been confused by the protectiveness he was feeling towards Cameron.

He had reasoned with himself that it was not unusual he wanted to protect her, after all, he may be an ass, but he didn't physically hurt people. She had worked for him for nearly three years now, and he was constantly reminded of how... feminine she was. Vulnerable. When Wilson had rung him that night, to tell him Armstrong had beaten her, he had immediately driven to the hospital, arriving only just after Wilson and Sara.

Part of him, the doctor side, had wanted to see for himself how bad her injuries were. But there was another part, an unfamiliar part, that had been genuinely concerned for his subordinate. And now that she was missing... this wasn't the first night he had lain awake, trying to think where Armstrong might have hidden her, or worried over what her physical state might be once she was found.

Now that she was missing, it was surprisingly easy to confess to himself that he had some degree of feelings for Cameron. Not only physical (although they were there too, and strong. He'd have to have been an idiot for there not to be), but ones that ran deeper. The thing was, after becoming so practiced after that first year of hiding them from everyone, including himself; he wasn't sure he could keep them hidden from others, Wilson specifically, now that he was aware of them.

Needless to say, he was stunned when Sara entered his office the next morning, and told him that Armstrong had requested to see him, and only him; and the police had agreed to it.

"Why does he want to see me?" House demanded. "All I ever did was.... actually I've never done anything to him."

Sara sighed in frustration. "I don't know, House, and I really don't care. What I care about, is the fact he might tell you where my sister is. And if there's even a chance of that happening, I'll do whatever I can to make it happen. I am begging you, _please _go and see him."

House refused flat out. "I have no desire to speak to your sister's kidnapper."

Sara's eyes, so much like her sisters, turned pleading. "House, please. What if Allie's hurt somewhere? We don't know where she is, if she's hurt, if she has food. He obviously wants to see you for a reason. Please, House? For Allison?"

House rolled his eyes, pretending to be reluctant, but knowing he would agree. He gave in, and at Sara and Wilson's insistence, headed to the Trenton Police Station.

"Dr. House. Nice of you to drop by," Armstrong said conversationally, when they were seated in an interview room.

"What do you want?" House asked immediately, wanting to get this visit over and done with, before he gave in to the overwhelming urge to break Armstrong's jaw.

Armstrong leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Must we be all business? Well, actually, I just wanted to get a good look at the man who's taken my girl."

House's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" he asked too quickly and Armstrong smirked.

"Ah... you love her too." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Why would she want to be with an arrogant, narcissist, cripple who's sixteen years older than her?"

House scowled at him. "I'm forty-six. It's not a death sentence. Besides, she started it."

"That's mature."

"So is kidnapping," House retorted. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Armstrong said in mock innocence. "I guess that's another puzzle for you Dr. House. But, if I were you, I'd be working really hard to solve it."

The way he said it sent shivers down House's spine. "Why? What did you do to her?" he demanded, unable to keep a trace of fear out of his voice.

Armstrong winked. "I... had some fun. But that's not what I'd be concerned about. At this stage, I guess, if I was Allison, I'd be more worried about the... holes in her hidey-hole, if you know what I mean. It's just, with all this rain..."

House stood up, furious. "You son of a bitch. All this, because she realised you weren't worth her time back in high school? If you've hurt her, you'll pay!" he threatened.

Armstrong slowly raised his head to meet House's gaze, a mocking smile on his face. Then he leaned forward and opened his mouth.

"Ring around the rosy,

A pocket full of posies.

Ashes, ashes.

We all fall down."

House sneered at him. "Yeah, I already knew Mother Goose was the highest example of your intelligence."

Armstrong chuckled deep in his throat as the guards led him back to his cell.

House's fury with Armstrong rose as he rode home, thanks to the childish nursery rhyme replaying itself over and over again in his head. It wasn't until he was almost home that it occurred to him that the rhyme was part of the 'puzzle' Armstrong had referred to. Cursing his negligence, he turned around and drove to the hospital, where he could think. Chase and Foreman arrived an hour later, none too keen in being asked to analyse a nursery rhyme, but their attitudes changed when House described his encounter with Armstrong, and the three set to work to decipher the clue.

"House, it doesn't mean anything!" Foreman said, tiredly, hours later.

"Yes, it does!" House retorted, extremely frustrated. "We're over thinking it too much. Generalise."

"House, it's just a nursery rhyme! Armstrong knew you'd obsess over it, and made you waste two and a half hours, just for the hell of it!" Chase added.

House ignored them, and let his eyes drift over the street map of Princeton they had dug up an hour ago. Suddenly, his keen eyes noticed something and he studied the map closer.

"Ring around the rosy..." he murmured, and Chase and Foreman frowned.

"What are you talking about?" Foreman asked.

"Rosedale Road!"

Chase rolled his eyes. "You went from 'Ring a ring of rosy' to 'Rosedale Road'?" he asked sceptically. "House, that's a big leap."

"Do either of you have any bright ideas?" House demanded, and the two boys admitted defeat.

"Should we call the cops?" Foreman asked.

House scoffed. "No. What if all we do then is send a couple of squad cars to some little old ladies house? We can check it out."

Foreman and Chase exchanged knowing glances as they followed their boss out of the room. They took Chase's car to Rosedale Road, and then pulled over to think. The car was silent, the rain, fortunately stopped for the moment.

"What now? We can't just knock on every house in the street, asking if there's a kidnapped woman in their home," Chase said reasonably.

"House, are you even sure?" Foreman questioned and House sighed.

"Look, this is the best theory we've got. If nothing's here, we've done nothing but waste a few hours. This is an older area of the city, the house's will be less maintained. It's worth a shot. So, pick a number."

Chase sighed in thought. "Twenty-five? The number of syllables in the poem?" he suggested.

Foreman shrugged and then said the first number that came into his head. "Eighty-one."

House nodded. "Ok. Twenty-five, eighty-one, and thirty-seven. Let's go."

At number eighty-one they found Abraham and an extremely pregnant Megan, who lived with Abraham's father, Philip. At thirty-five resided, interior decorators Hamish and Andy, the former of which took an interest in Chase, much to his horror and House's amusement. When they knocked on the door of number twenty-five however, no one answered.

Trying to control the burst of hope that this brought to him, House sent Chase and Foreman to talk to the neighbours to find out who lived in the seemingly empty house.

"The lady next door said someone only moved in last week," Foreman said eagerly when they returned. "She only saw him once, and said he told her that he was only moving a few things in, because the house was for his fiancée when they got married next month."

"But her description of the guy fits Armstrong," Chase added. "Not that she had much of a description."

"Yeah, if Chase was a bit taller, he'd fit her description!" Foreman continued, and Chase glared at him.

House nodded approvingly. "Good work. Foreman, step up to the plate. How do we get in?"

Foreman rolled his eyes and reluctantly began to inspect the lock before getting to work. He opened it easily, and the trio cautiously stepped inside the dark house.

"Roof's leaking," Chase observed, looking up at the ceiling, several drops of water splashing onto the floor to alert them that it was once again raining heavily.

"Let's spread out. Look for either Cameron, or signs of life," House ordered and headed into the next room.

A quick search of the house revealed little food in the kitchen, and a few items of men's clothing; as well as a few blankets and medical supplies.

House was disappointed as they re-grouped in the foyer. "Ok, let's go. We'll think of something else."

He turned to leave and then paused by a door he hadn't noticed earlier, as it was tucked in a corner.

"What's in here?" he asked and Foreman shrugged.

"A closet, I guess. I didn't look."

House opened the door to reveal a dark space, and he stepped forward cautiously, fumbling around on the wall until he felt a light switch. The three men inhaled sharply at the sight that met them.

The door led to a basement, which was flooded, and then they made out a dark shape under the water. A human shape.

"I'll call an ambulance," Chase said immediately, and hurried outside to get reception as Foreman and House hastened down the stairs.

The water, gushing through a low, open window onto the floor, was almost mid-calves on House, and when they got closer they could see the shape was in fact Cameron. She was seemingly unconscious, bound and gagged, her face deathly pale and the water lapping just over her head, covering her face.

"Untie her feet," House ordered Foreman, dropping his cane and kneeling down in order to reach Cameron better.

He lifted her upper body out of the water, but almost dropped her again as her eyes suddenly snapped open, wide and terrified, already filling with tears.

"House!" she gasped weakly as he ripped the gag out of her mouth.

"Hey," he greeted her casually, untying her hands, hiding the relief that swept over him.

"Are you okay? How long were you under water?" Foreman asked anxiously.

"Not long, I don't think," she murmured softly, her head swimming after lying down for so long.

House gently supported her head. "Did you hurt your head?"

She nodded faintly. "Yeah... Brad... oh god, Brad!"

"It's okay, he's in jail," House assured her softly, as she feebly clutched his hand in panic.

Calming slightly, Cameron drew a deep breath, let out a cough that racked her whole body, and sank against House.

"I don't think I've eaten for a few days," she whispered and he rolled his eyes.

"Cameron, will you let me be the doctor?" he scolded her. "We're going to get you out of here."

He motioned to Foreman, who slung her arm around his shoulder and placed a supporting arm under her legs. But when he made to lift her out of the water, Cameron let out an involuntary gasp of pain.

"What happened?" House demanded, panicking.

"My leg," she whispered hoarsely. "Brad stabbed me."

House was aghast. "He stabbed you! With what?"

"A knife," she said as though it were obvious. "Brad didn't treat it, but it missed the femoral artery."

"Cameron! You patient, me doctor!" House admonished, and Foreman cautiously picked her up and carried her upstairs to the living room.

He lay her down on the floor, as Chase hurried in the room with the blankets he'd found.

"Cameron!" he said, obviously relieved to find her alive and she managed a small smile.

"Hey, Chase."

Foreman knelt down and placed his coat under her head, whilst House, got down with difficulty beside her.

"I'm going to check the wound for infection, okay?" he asked and she nodded. Uncomfortably, House removed her pants and the three men's jaws dropped in unison. Cameron's waist and upper legs were covered in bruises, of various shades, sizes and colours.

"What did he do!" Chase said, horrified.

Realization dawned on House. "He raped you." It was a statement, not a question.

Cameron's voice was as weak at it had ever been as she answered. "So many times I lost count."

House, still absorbing this news, and unable to shake the visions from his mind, began to clean her stab wound, warning Cameron not to fall asleep in case of a severe head injury. As he bandaged it, they heard sirens approaching.

"You guys drive back to the hospital, tell Wilson and Sara," House instructed Chase and Foreman. "I'll go in the ambulance."

They nodded, and both squeezed Cameron's hand tightly as they left. The paramedics entered as they left, and loaded her carefully into the ambulance, giving her an oxygen mask.

"Can I go to sleep yet?" she asked House, lowering the mask as he sat next to her.

He nodded, and replaced the mask on her face. "Yeah, I guess. Just make sure you wake up, or I'll be forced to fire you."

Cameron smiled and closed her eyes.

**A/N: Hey, I put Tritter in the story! Mainly coz I couldn't be bothered to invent a cop. Also, I had to do a lot of research for this story to find Mercer County, coz in Australia we don't have counties! And then I had to look on Google Earth at New Jersey and find a street that I could link to a nursery rhyme.... phew. So, I don't know if Rosedale Road is in an older area of Princeton; so anyone who lives in Rosedale Road, Princeton... especially at number 25... sorry.**


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

When Cameron awoke hours later, Sara and Wilson were by her side, Sara sobbing with happiness. She was still tired, and her leg ached, but she was so glad to see her sister, and then she spoke to her parents, reassuring them of her health.

Sara and Wilson didn't stay long, in order to let Cameron rest, but when they had gone, House entered quietly with a large bag in his hand.

"I figured you'd be hungry, but hospital food is crap. I got some good stuff," he said matter-of-factly.

Cameron's eyes widened as he unpacked a container of soup and crackers, a chocolate bar and a salad.

"There's no way I can eat all this!" she protested.

"Don't worry, I can help you out," he offered generously and Cameron raised the bed to a higher position.

"How do you feel?" he asked her after a moment.

Cameron sighed. "My head hurts, my leg hurts, my bruises ache, my chests hurts from coughing so much... apart from that, great."

House nodded. "Cuddy wants you to stay until we know that you don't have pneumonia, then you can go home. But you can't come back to work until your leg heals. In a couple of weeks, we'll check for pregnancy. Cuddy wants you to do the counselling thing too."

Cameron grimaced. "Great."

She paused and when she spoke again, her voice was choked with quiet tears. "Towards the end... the last few days... I really thought I was going to die."

House hesitated, then gently took her hand. "You didn't think I'd find you in time? Did you forget who you work for?"

She smiled weakly. "Sorry, I forgot that you moonlight as a detective."

"Damn straight. They don't call me the next Sherlock Holmes for nothing," House replied.

The two exchanged a small, private smile and then House pushed the salad towards her. "Come on eat. You're way too skinny as it is."

"I am not," she replied and he raised an eyebrow.

"Cameron, if I can see your pelvis bones, you're too thin. Now eat!"

Cameron had not contracted pneumonia, as it transpired, but she had come awfully close, and was left with a very bad case of the flu instead. Nevertheless, she insisted on having a short walk each day to help her regain her strength and movement in her leg, usually helped by Sara or Wilson. Almost a week after her rescue, however, House found himself assisting her as she walked around the hospital.

"You look tired," House commented when she asked to sit for a minute.

"I'm not sleeping much. Nightmares," she shrugged.

"About?" House frowned, wondering if she was reliving the rape at Armstrong's hands. She seemed to know what he was thinking and shook her head.

"Not that, House. Drowning," she clarified and House nodded in understanding.

House was studying the floor, deep in thought, when Cameron suddenly clutched his hand, fingernails digging into his skin.

"Ow! What the hell, Cameron?"

He looked up and saw her white face staring down the hall behind him. House turned to see Armstrong coming towards them.

"Wait here," he told her quietly, standing up.

"What the hell are you doing here and why aren't you rotting in jail?" he demanded when Armstrong was in earshot.

"I'm out awaiting trial. Thought I'd come see how Allie is," Armstrong said casually.

House's blood boiled over and he swung back his fist and connected with Armstrong's jaw, sending him reeling. Cameron gaped at the sight as security exited the elevators and headed for Armstrong.

"Come near her again, and a bruised jaw will be the least of your worries," House snarled.

As security hauled Armstrong away, House turned and returned to Cameron, silently helping her back to her feet and they continued moving back to her room.

"I never really thanked you... for finding me," she said quietly.

House glanced at her sideways. "Forget it. I'm sure I'll think of a way you can repay me," he replied and Cameron chuckled.

House couldn't stop himself from becoming closer to Cameron over the next month. He was there as she was released into Wilson and Sara's care; as she discovered she was not pregnant; as her stitches came out and she returned to work. It was only House who knew she was still suffering from nightmares about drowning, and the effect they had on her. He'd had the unfortunate honour of witnessing one, the first week she had been back at work. Seeing she was exhausted, and they had no patients, he had insisted she sleep on the couch in his office when he went to do his clinic duty.

Two hours later, he wearily returned to Diagnostics', which was empty, and cautiously entered his office to get his PSP. He moved stealthily, so as to not wake Cameron up, and was halfway out the door when he heard the whimper. Whipping around, he saw Cameron, still sleeping, begin to shiver and for the first time noticed her breathing sounded shallow.

Quickly, he moved across the room and hesitantly shook her gently. "Cameron? Cameron?"

Nothing changed, and a tremor of panic clutched at House's gut. He shook her again, harder, and raised his voice.

"Cameron!"

Abruptly, she jerked awake, sat upright and clutched at House. He automatically steadied her as she took deep breaths. Cameron couldn't help but begin to cry when she realised she was awake and didn't even notice House holding her.

"Are you okay?" he asked her when she had stopped shaking.

Cameron swallowed and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," she apologised.

House resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead sat next to her. "It sounded like a bad one. Same nightmare? The drowning?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And that was actually a good one. Anytime I don't wake up and vomit is a good one."

House was concerned. "Are you talking to the psychiatrist about this?"

Cameron nodded again. "Yeah. She says it should pass eventually. That my brain can only cope with the rape or the fact I nearly drowned one at a time, and it's dealing with the rape," she explained.

House was interested now. "Do you like the psychiatrist?"

"Yeah. Her secretary is a bitch, but she's a good doctor."

"What's wrong with her secretary?" House asked, grinning, knowing talking about other things would relax Cameron.

Cameron snorted. "Well, last week, I was waiting to go in to her office, and Holly, that's the secretary... she said it must be awful."

"To be raped?" House raised an eyebrow.

Cameron laughed dryly. "No. To know I'll never have a healthy relationship after this."

House's jaw dropped. "What?"

Cameron shrugged. "Well, she has a point. Finding dates when you were a twenty-one year old widow is hard enough. Throw in the fact I was beaten, kidnapped and raped by my high school ex-boyfriend? It'll be a challenge," she smiled and House was outraged.

"Damn she is a bitch. And an idiot. I could probably find ten guys in this hospital who would want to date you! She doesn't know what she's talking about!"

Cameron smiled softly. "Thanks, House. I'm going to go get some lunch. You want anything?"

House shook his head. "No thanks."

He was distracted all afternoon and that night, he sat staring at the TV, but not really watching it, his thoughts once again, on Cameron. What bothered him most was not what her psychiatrist's secretary had said, but that Cameron seemed to accept it so readily. The fact that she was widowed and her past with Armstrong shouldn't be a repellent for men; it should be a standard to see which men were worthy of her.

"Aah," said a small voice in House's head, sounding suspiciously like Wilson. "But couldn't the same be said about your leg? Isn't that why you rejected her? Because you didn't want her pity? What if she had loved you in spite of the infarction?"

It was a thought House hadn't allowed himself to ponder over much throughout the past three years, but one that still snuck through once in awhile; usually when he and Cameron had experienced a moment of connection, usually related to their patient.

This one little voice overpowered the rest of House's brain and he found himself standing and grabbing his car keys, before he could talk himself out of it.

**A/N: I debated a lot whether Cameron should get pregnant as a result of the rape, but decided against it. Which when I finally get around to uploading a story I've written called 'LUCK OF THE IRISH', you'll see why. (Don't worry, no rape, but... well, I don't want to spoil it for you.) Also, ha ha about the 'Sherlock Holmes' line... get it?**

**And I am 5ft...2/3? And weigh 44kg (about 95 pounds) and I can see my own pelvis bones. And yes, it is gross and creeps me out. I just can't gain weight, and stress makes it fall off. Finding clothes sucks.**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of House MD...yet. Give me time to win the Lotto.**

**AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry this is so short.... as I read this over before uploading, I realised I really think there should be a sequel... eventually. So, story ideas, do you want a sequel? Feel free to suggest. **

**Also, I'm sorry if you've read a lot of my other stories and think it sounds familiar. I've put way much thought into why Hameron is not a reality, and my theory is the same, but there's really only 1 or 2 ways I can say it. But it's possible, so that's the important thing, right?**

**6**

Wilson stumbled out of bed, fumbling until he reached the hall light and turned it on, wincing at the bright light. Still half-asleep, he reached the front door and opened it, quickly so as to cease the insistent banging.

"House?" he asked in confusion.

"Hi. Is Cameron here?"

Wilson paused, even more puzzled. "It's three am."

"Yeah. Is Cameron here?"

Wilson opened his mouth to argue, changed his mind and stepped back, pointing down the hall. Cameron met him halfway, her hair tousled by sleep and in comfortable old sweatpants and a long-sleeved cotton top.

"House?"

"Hey. Nice pjs."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thanks. What's going on? Is it a case?"

House stalled. "Uh, not exactly. Can I talk to you?"

She led him down the hall into her bedroom, past Sara, who was not impressed with her wake up call, and shut the door behind them. As they sat on her bed, Cameron looked at House patiently.

"I like you," he said awkwardly, and Cameron's eyes widened.

"What?"

"I- I like you. As in, I would like to try a relationship with you. And I don't know how that will work, I mean... because I'm me, and you're you. But I want to try, because I meant what I said earlier... that I could easily find ten people in the hospital that want to date you. Because you're you, and anything that's happened to you shouldn't factor in whether a guy is attracted to you. And then I realised that's what I was doing with my leg, in a way. I ignored the fact that I like you, because I thought it would be better you were with someone whole."

Cameron sat very still in a stunned silence, and House, misinterpreting her silence, became embarrassed and stood up.

"Just forget it."

As he headed for the door, Cameron found her voice. "House, wait. _Wait!_"

He turned, surprised to hear anger in her voice.

"You _cannot _just dump all this stuff on me in the middle of the night when I'm half asleep, and then not give me a minute to think!" she cried angrily, rising too.

"Fine," House snapped. "Have you had enough time to think?"

Cameron paused. "House, I haven't been in a relationship since my husband. I don't think I know how to be in a relationship after being a widow. And I don't know how the rape is going to affect me, psychologically."

House shrugged. "I don't know how to be in a relationship as a cripple and a drug addict. That's how I wrecked my last relationship."

He stepped closer to her tentatively. "Do you trust me?"

Cameron met his gaze steadily. "Yes."

"Then that's enough. The rest will come with time," he said quietly.

Cameron bit her lip. "But I don't know how much time."

House nodded. "I know. We've waited this long, I don't think a bit longer will kill us. And we can always take it slow."

She raised an eyebrow quizzically. "How slow is slow?"

House cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. "About that slow. Is that okay?"

Cameron grinned. "That'll do," she murmured and their lips met again in a sweet, tender kiss, filled with trust and the promise of a fresh start.

**The End**


End file.
